


Jumping

by Goldilocks92



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 11:37:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11379411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldilocks92/pseuds/Goldilocks92
Summary: Hermione and Snape fall in love brewing together at Grimauld Place, but someone tries to break them up. Five days in the year 1998: the most important days of Hermione's life. In which Hermione searches desperately, falls in love, breaks her own heart and his, and jumps. But how do they land? War-time, SS/HG, HEA, edited, Complete! Romance and Angst.





	Jumping

**_May 2 nd, 1998. Part one._ **

 

_Severus_. That was the only thought in Hermione's mind as she ran through the destruction of Hogwarts’ grounds. _Severus!_

 

She had to find him. Her heart was pounding and her body was trembling, but still she pushed harder, racing towards the entrance to the Great Hall.

 

She jumped over rubble and corpses, not sparing them a glance. She knew Severus wasn't among them.

 

She had seen him, right at the end. Harry and Voldemort had been locked in a fierce, silent battle, the power of their wands clashing, neither giving way. Sparks were flying and Harry was clearly struggling, tears running down his cheeks and his wand hand shaking.

 

Hermione had been petrified, unable to move, afraid for her friend.

 

And then it had been over with the flick of a wand. A dark shape had risen behind Voldemort, arm raised, Gryffindor's sword glinting in his right hand, reflecting the red and green light of the battling spells.

 

And then it had descended. The action appeared to Hermione as if in slow motion, she was holding her breath but could hardly feel the burning in her chest. _Severus_.

 

He could not have intervened with a spell, but cleaved Voldemort's head off in one smooth action. The grotesque head had flown through the air and landed with an audible thump. Everything had been silent. No one moved.

 

And then Harry had collapsed, crumpling into a heap. People were rushing towards him.

 

And Hermione had collapsed too and everything went black.

 

When she woke up she was alone on the ground, covered in dirt, cold. She saw Harry being picked up and carried into the Great Hall. People were cheering.

 

Her neck tingled. She had a faint notion of warm fingers pressing against her jugular. She looked around. No one was there.

 

When she sat up something fell into her lap. She sunk her fingers into soft material, still warm from the heat of her unconscious body.

 

She recognised it immediately. _Severus_.

 

She brought his cloak up to her face and inhaled deeply.

 

An anguished sob from somewhere deep in her chest welled up as she buried her face into the fabric. She could sense him around her, his scent like a physical presence embracing her.

 

How she had missed that feeling, that sensation of safety, of happiness.

 

And after everything she had said, everything she had done, she knew he had found her and checked her heart beat and covered her with his cloak.

 

And then he had left her, lying still in the dirt, her body exhausted.

 

_Severus!_

She had to find him.

 

She got up and ran.

 

…...........

 

**_Four months earlier: January 9 th, 1998_ **

 

Hermione brewed silently, rhythmically stirring her rod and keeping an eye on the consistency of the potion.

 

There was a heavy pressure pushing down on her chest, making her ache. Her fingers felt clumsy and she held the rod tightly lest she drop it into her potion.

 

She tried to focus on keeping her movements smooth.

 

Her body felt over-sensitised and her clothes felt heavy on her skin. Her face was flushed. Her free hand was gripping the table tightly.

 

This was unbearable.

 

Although she did not look at him, she was more than aware of the man standing by her side. _Severus_. He was brewing at the station next to hers, his presence burning into her.

 

His composure and elegance made her feel awkward and ungainly. The scent of him, hitting her in waves, felt like a series of physical blows pounding down on her.

 

The sight of his long fingers and the dusting of dark hair on his pale, exposed forearms made her skin itch in longing. She needed to feel his hands on her, wanted to explore the wiry strength of his forearms with her tongue.

 

Fiery heat pooled in her groin and her nipples tightened against the unbearable restriction of her clothes. Hermione almost moaned aloud as she shuddered in need, momentarily disrupting the smooth stirring of the potion.

 

They had been brewing for months now. Cooped up alone in the basement of Grimauld Place developing potions for the war effort. Potions to protect the drinker, potions to increase strength, power and fighting skills, potions to calm nerves without affecting ability. Potions to end one's own life in case of capture.

 

Hermione had learned a lot. She had learned the almost limitless power of potions, how to turn even the wildest idea into a small vial of liquid. She had learned that Snape was a genius and that he could be patient and reasonable when she granted him the same favour.

 

She had learned how to read the potions master. She didn't doubt that he would always be a mystery to her, yet she could tell when it was the right time to ask him questions or start a discussion with him and when it was best to hold her tongue.

 

When he was in the mood to talk, it was glorious. He opened up a new world before her and shared his precious enthusiasm with her alone. His eyes shone and the corner of his mouth would curl upwards as he leaned towards her and shared secrets of magic she could not have dreamt of before. He would leave her breathless and excited and lying in bed at night awake with a world of possibility dancing before her eyes.

 

Some days though he would be closed to her, his face impassive and his head held high, but Hermione could tell there was an icy weight holding him in its grasp. On those days she would stay silent and still, trying to offer him comfort and support through her own steadiness. She would anticipate his needs, preparing his ingredients and passing them to him at the right time. She would be present, there for him, but unobtrusive.

 

And then there were days like today. When Severus was quiet, tense, but not cold. No, Hermione could feel his presence by her side, smouldering and burning and she knew he would be able to consume her with a look.

 

That Severus would leave her gasping out into the night, alone in the privacy of her small chamber as she released the tension he had built within her during the day.

 

On those days they worked in silence, although Hermione felt deafened by the sound of her heartbeat. Their hands or arms would occasionally brush leaving trails of fire burning over her skin.

 

Normally Hermione was able to contain her need and control herself. She would breathe deeply after such an instant of contact and push down her desire.

 

But not today. No, today as she was standing there, her skin tight, her clothes heavy and her movements clumsy, she moaned aloud when Severus caught her hand to correct her jerky stirring.

 

And everything stopped.

 

Hermione held herself still in mortification and Severus froze suddenly, his hand still on hers.

 

And then Hermione released her rod into the potion.

 

It made an audible plopping sound which seemed to reverberate around the basement.

 

And then there was fire.

 

Severus' other hand moved to her head and dragged her to him in a burning kiss. Their lips clung together and their eyes were tightly closed as they held on to the sensation of their first intimate contact.

 

Everything was a blur after that. Tongues tangled and clothing was thrown off as hands grappled to reach skin and heat and sensation.

 

Later, when she was remembering the beginning of it all, moments stood out in her mind like pictures frozen in time.

 

His palm caressing the smooth curve of her belly and her groin turning into molten lava.

 

Trailing her tongue over his throat and sucking on the skin covering his strong Adam's apple as he groaned, loudly and deeply.

 

The feel of their naked upper bodies pressed against each other for the first time, skin on skin and a white-hot flame chasing through her body at his touch.

 

When he turned her around and bent her over the work station, his lips groaning into her neck as he plunged inside her the first time, his harsh movement a testimony to the extent of his desire.

 

The feeling of completion, of fulfilment, of home-coming, when he held his hard length within her for a moment and she felt whole.

 

The perfect harmony of their thrusts, each one more magnificent than the last as his name from her lips echoed through the room.

 

And the absolute ecstasy of her climax spurred on by the feeling of him coming inside her in hot bursts, of him whispering her name into the wisps of her hair.

 

And afterwards, being held by him in silence, looking into his pitch-black eyes, the one thought in her mind: _Severus._

**_February 9 th, 1998_ **

****

Hermione lay awake, ensconced in Severus' arms. Her head was resting on the warmth of his shoulder. One arm and one leg slung across him. His arms were both around her.

 

She watched her breaths stir the soft strands of the hair at his neck.

 

She was blissfully happy. She had been for the month they had been together.

 

They hadn't made a big fuss about the change in their relationship. Perhaps that was why no one else had either. The atmosphere at Grimmauld place was quiet and tense. Everyone knew war was fast approaching, and everyone had retreated into their own haven of peace. Harry never left Ginny's side and the Weasleys spent their days cocooned in their togetherness.

 

Hermione had found her peace with Severus, and no one seemed to begrudge her that. They didn't try to hide their feelings, nor were they demonstrative. They just were.

 

They still brewed together every day and the only significant difference was the ease with which they conversed and touched each other.

 

Some days they could hardly get enough of one another and would kiss each other slowly as they waited for a potion to boil, hands stroking and soothing and afterwards, long looks and soft smiles.

 

Some days the icy weight would settle upon Severus again, but there were less of those days than before. On those days, Hermione would remain quiet but would occasionally settle her hand on his arm or shoulder, trying to send him some of her strength. He always seemed to understand.

 

And every night they would lose themselves inside the other. Sometimes slowly and gently, holding eye contact and relishing the weight of soft gasps breaking the silence. Sometimes playfully, rolling around the sheets and laughing and Hermione would delight in the brightness of Severus' dark eyes. Sometimes feverishly, even aggressively, testing each other's limits with teeth and nails and hard, bruising thrusts which would quickly send them spiralling into rapture and exultation.

 

Hermione was blissfully happy. And she felt at peace. She had found her anchor and her reason to continue in the fight against darkness.

 

And when she felt overwhelmed by the challenge before her, Severus would notice and hold her and soothe her, whispering his assurances that together they would prevail, survive, and live.

 

She believed that they would.

 

As she lay there in his arms, enjoying the feel of long fingers stroking through her curls, she lifted his other hand to her lips and kissed it gently.

 

“I love you,” she sighed, speaking aloud for the first time what she had known all along.

 

Soft lips caressed her forehead and she closed her eyes.

 

“And I love you,” he whispered against her skin and she felt the corners of his mouth curl up in the special smile he only ever gave her. Her lips curved upwards in return.

 

_Severus_.

 

**_February 14 th, 1998. Part One._ **

****

Hermione left the library and closed the door softly behind her. She was shaking all over. She felt like her heart was trying to pound out of her chest.

 

Dumbledore had asked her to speak with him alone in the library after breakfast. Severus was away harvesting potion's ingredients in Cornwall. He would be back in the evening.

 

Dumbledore's words were beating through Hermione's ears, in time with her erratic heartbeat.

 

“You must end your association with Severus.” His tone had been calm and civil, as if he weren't tearing Hermione's foundation from beneath her feet.

 

She had gaped at him, shocked, unable to speak the refusal that was resounding firmly within her.

 

“He must not have anything to live for, to hope for,” Dumbledore had said. Hermione felt the cruelty of his words in the depth of her being.

 

“If he does, we will lose the war.”

“If he believes you love him, he will be trying to protect you in the final battle. He will care for nothing else.”

“If you do not end it, Harry will die.”

“If you do not end it, Severus will die. He will die trying to protect you and abandon all other duties.”

 

“Severus will die unless he fights with nothing to lose.”

 

_We will lose the war. Harry will die. Severus will die._

 

The words echoed in an endless loop. Hermione stumbled to her bedroom.

 

The door closed behind her, she sank to the floor. Her whole body was shaking as she was racked with sobs. It was a pain she had never felt before. She felt sick with it.

 

It wasn't just that she would lose him although, _oh Gods_ , that felt worse than she could have imagined.

 

No. She had to convince Severus it was over. She had to tell him that _she did not love him_. It would break him, as surely as it would break her.

 

And she would have to do it _tonight_.

 

If she stayed with him for one last night, he would know there was something wrong. She would not be able to hide it, to stop herself from clinging to him, from crying. From confessing.

 

Hermione screamed into her hands in frustration and despair and sorrow.

 

_Severus!_

 

**_February 14 th, 1998. Part Two._ **

****

Hermione was waiting for Severus when he returned home that night. She sat in the chair next to his bed which they had shared every night since their first, just over a month ago.

 

She had spent most of the day sobbing in her room, allowing herself to indulge in her heartbreak. She knew it would be her only opportunity to mourn her loss.

 

Once she had left him she would not be able to show such emotion.

 

The thought of appearing unaffected by their separation sent a bolt of pain searing through her.

 

Just before he was expected to return, Hermione had righted her clothes and cast a glamour over her swollen face and red-rimmed eyes. She had downed a vial of calming draught to steady her shaking hands.

 

The smile curling around his lips as he walked into the room made her gut clench. _Severus._

He strode over to her, eyes bright, and said “I missed you”, before trying to take her into his arms.

 

Hermione turned her head away from him and he stopped short.

 

“Hermione?” he asked, “what's wrong?”

 

She looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes. But no more. He could not know what was coming, he trusted her.

 

This was _unbearable_.

 

She steeled herself.

 

“We can't be together any more” she said, still looking him in the eyes. He could not see her flinch. He could not doubt her words.

 

He took a step back.

 

“Severus, this thing between us, it's over. I'm sorry.” Hermione continued. Severus' eyes flashed in a moment of pain before he closed them against her. This was the worst thing she had ever done. She hated herself in that moment. She _deserved_ this piercing agony.

 

He just stood there a moment, before clenching his fist and opening his eyes again. He was not going to give up. Not yet. But she knew he would never beg. She loved him for that.

 

He stepped towards her. There was anger in his eyes and hurt in the lines of his face. “This _thing_?” he asked incredulously. “I _love_ you.” It sounded like he had to force the words out. She knew those words were never easy for him. “You love me.” He stated. She knew she had given him every reason to believe that was true. She looked down into her lap.

 

“I'm sorry, Severus,” she said quietly, fiddling with her hands. “But I don't think that's true anymore.” She knew it wasn't enough. She had to be convincing. Hermione looked up at him and met his gaze directly. He looked confused, concerned, upset. But he didn't believe her. Not yet.

 

“I don't love you.” She said slowly. It felt like every part of her was rebelling against her, screaming his name, screaming for _Severus_.

 

The effect was immediate. Gone was the confusion, the concern, the upset, the hurt, the anger and the pain. His face closed against her as if there was no emotion behind it. Impassive, cold, empty. The icy weight had returned once more. Hermione hadn't seen it in a while. It felt like a frozen fist was clenching tightly around her heart.

 

She had lost him, just like that.

 

Severus turned, stepped to the door, and opened it. He waited for her to get up to leave.

 

“Miss Granger,” he said after she had stepped out. She turned. _Severus_. “I no longer require your aid with brewing.”

 

Hermione felt like she was falling. She would not hear him say her first name again. _Severus!_

 

He continued. “Thank you for your time.” It was said in a cold sneer, belying his words. Hermione felt the weight of each one of them as they battered against her skull.

 

She turned and walked slowly to her bedroom. She held her head high as tears streamed down her cheeks.

 

_We will lose the war._ _Harry will die. Severus will die. Severus will die. Severus will die._

In the months leading up to the war, the icy weight never left Severus once.

 

**_May 2 nd, 1998. Part two._ **

 

_Severus_. That was the only thought in Hermione's mind as she ran through the destruction of Hogwart's grounds. _Severus!_

 

She had to find him. Her heart was pounding and her body was trembling, but still she pushed harder, racing towards the entrance to the Great Hall.

 

She jumped over rubble and corpses, not sparing them a glance. She knew Severus wasn't among them.

 

When she reached the hall her knees started to give out and she fell against the wall at the entrance. One glance told her that he was not there. Familiar faces waved and beckoned but Hermione did not register any of them.

 

She _had_  to find him. The only thought that had kept her going in the past months, that had kept her sane despite the constant hollowness in her chest, the unbearable pain of having hurt _him_ , was the possibility of this moment. The possibility that they would both survive, that she could explain, that he would forgive her, that she would never have to be without him again.

 

She sprinted off again, ignoring those beckoning faces, ignoring the trembling weakness of her body.

 

For some reason, she knew where he would be. _Severus!_

 

Hermione raced through the hall and up the great stairway and the next and the next. Her lungs were burning and she kept tripping over rubble, but still she continued running, spurred on by the mantra of his name in her mind.

 

She found the winding staircase to the Astronomy Tower and scrambled over fallen bricks, scratching her arm open on a shard of glass, to reach the stairs.

 

“ _Severus!_ ” she cried out, half scream, half sob. He would be able to hear her by now.

 

She burst out into the open air, the dark sky vast above her, faint sounds of celebration coming from below. But the sole focus of her senses rested on the dark figure leaning back against the tower wall, the upper half of his body silhouetted against the moonlight.

 

Their gazes connected and for a moment Hermione felt like everything was right in the world.

 

“Severus” she sighed, slowly walking towards him. Still they held eye-contact, but in the darkness Hermione did not recognise the deadness of his expression.

 

She had almost reached him when he finally spoke.

 

“Goodbye, Hermione.”

 

Severus leant back and let himself fall from the tower.

 

**_May 2 nd 1998\. Part three._ **

****

Hermione didn't think. Before she had even absorbed what had happened, she had flung herself after him, screaming his name “SEVERUS!”.

 

The split seconds she was falling for felt like the world was grinding to a halt. She felt weightless and relieved, her life was no longer in her own hands. She was falling, flying. She spread out her arms.

 

And she saw Severus, his back hurtling towards the ground, his limbs stretched out, star-shaped. From above, Hermione saw Severus' eyes widen as he registered her falling above him.

 

A moment later she felt arms clench around her waist and then she was on firm ground. Alive.

 

She collapsed to the ground, shuddering and pale. Her body could no longer hold her, she had driven it far past its limits.

 

And then truth descended – _he had jumped_. The realisation that he had tried to _end his life_ settled upon her and Hermione wailed, the sound bursting forth from inside her, breaking through her dry sobs.

 

She curled onto her side and saw Severus on his knees, his hands in his hair and a violent expression on his face. She sobbed harder.

 

He started shouting. “You stupid, stupid, idiot girl! You could have died! What were you thinking? You could have died!”

 

His face was torn in pain and he was rocking back and forth, ever so slightly.

 

Hermione forced herself to breathe in deeply and out again slowly. Again and again until she had calmed somewhat, no longer shaking. She didn't want to pass out. Not before she had told him the truth.

 

“What were you thinking?” He demanded again, his voice raw.

 

Hermione sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to compose herself.

 

“I wasn't thinking. But I would do it again.” Her voice was trembling and she looked up at him imploringly, willing him to understand. _Severus_. “It was win-win. Either you saved us both, or I died with you.”

 

Severus stilled and his eyes shot to hers. There were tracks of dirt and blood on his face. He said nothing.

 

“Severus,” Hermione said, and tears started rolling down her cheeks. “Severus, I love you. I love you so much that I would rather be dead than without you.”

 

She saw Severus cave in on himself. He started rocking again and looked down at his dirty, blood-smeared hands. “You don't love me,” he said quietly. “You don't love me.”

 

The words rang with finality and Hermione knew he had been speaking them over and over in his mind the last months. It felt like her heart was tearing apart. She had done this.

 

She let out a sob and got up to her knees, shuffling closer to him. She took his hands in hers and held them tightly even as he tried to flinch away.

 

“I love you,” she said again and Severus let out a moan of pain. Hermione realised that he was crying, his face contorted. _Oh Gods_. She had to explain.

 

“Dumbledore,” she croaked out the name she had grown to hate. “Dumbledore told me to leave you.” Severus let out a sob and his hands tightened around hers convulsively. He still did not look up.

 

“I didn't want to. It was the most painful thing I have ever had to do in my life. But he said that if I didn't, we would lose the war, that Harry would die. Severus, he said that if I didn't, _you_ would die fighting. Nothing less could have kept me from you.” Hermione's voice broke. “I'm so so so sorry, Severus.”

 

There was a long pause. They were both kneeling in the dirt, holding hands. Severus' head was still bent and Hermione could still feel him rocking, ever so slightly.

 

She gave him a moment to understand what she had said. She noticed that they were further from the castle than she had thought. He had flown them to the side of the lake. Her vision was blurred by her tears.

 

“I love you,” she choked out again, and this time Severus responded, pulling her into him and wrapping his arms around her, cradling her against his chest. Hermione could feel him shuddering as he buried his face into her hair and held her so tightly that she almost had trouble breathing. She sobbed with the joy of being in his arms again.

 

They sat there for a long time, just holding each other. Hermione could feel Severus calming down, his breathing growing deeper and more regular. She pressed her face into his chest and breathed in his scent.

 

Surrounded by his strength, his warmth, Hermione felt peace again for the first time since they had separated.

 

And with the peace came a bone-weary tiredness and Hermione's body could hold out no longer. Her eyes closed and she lost consciousness, once more in Severus' arms.

 

**_May 3 rd, 1998_ **

****

When Hermione awoke it was bright. The sun was warm against her face and she could hear the gentle lapping of water.

 

She was momentarily confused before she registered the warm body lying against her back, an arm slung around her and her legs tangled with another pair. _Severus_.

 

The previous night flooded back to her and she gasped. Her body made itself known – she was sore all over.

 

Voldemort was dead and she was ensconced in Severus' embrace once more. Hermione started weeping gently. With relief that it was over, that Severus had stayed with her during the night, that they had survived.

 

She did not know if he would be able to forgive her, if they would ever regain their past closeness. But it was a good sign that he was holding her now. For the first time in months Hermione had hope.

 

Her body shuddered slightly as the tears stubbornly continued rolling down her face. The feeling of Severus around her was almost too much to bear, too intense, too wonderful – she could not lose him now.

 

A gentle hand started stroking her hair as Severus' arm tightened around her.

 

“You're awake,” he whispered, and the sound of his voice resounded through her body, making her smile through her tears.

 

She turned around in his arms, facing him. His face was still dirty, his hair a matted mess. But his eyes were soft and his expression open. _Severus_.

 

His proud beautiful forehead frowned when he noticed her tears. His thumb caressed her cheeks. “What's wrong?” he asked gently.

 

“I missed you so much,” Hermione whispered, hands clinging to his shirt as she tried to pull herself closer to him. She buried her face into his chest and inhaled deeply.

 

His hands pulled her away from him slightly so that he could look into her face. “I missed you too, Hermione,” he said.

 

She started crying harder again, and felt a bit ridiculous, but she just couldn't stop. “Please, Severus, tell me that it's not too late, that you don't still hate me!”

 

His reply was glorious. “Never,” he growled, and then his lips descended onto hers.

 

_Heaven_. Hermione let out a small cry from the back of her throat and tangled her hands into his hair, pulling him as close to her as possible. Her lips clung to his desperately and she wound one of her legs around his hips, pressing into him.

 

Severus groaned as she opened to him and then he was plunging his tongue into her mouth as he rolled onto his back and pulled her over him, into him.

 

They kissed wildly and it was even better than the first time. Hands were reacquainting themselves with the contours of each other's bodies and their hips started grinding against each other. Their passion ignited quickly, they had been apart too long.

 

Hermione pulled away from him, gasping. She was straddling his hips, her palms rested on his chest. She looked deep into his eyes and saw emotion there, something she had feared she would never see in his eyes again.

 

Suddenly she was _desperate_. So was he. Simultaneously they reached for each other's belts, grappling with buckles and buttons and zips. They were both breathing heavily, mouths open, and then Severus was free and Hermione's trousers had been pulled down and she gripped him as she lowered herself onto him.

 

They stilled. He was seated deep within her and tears sprung to Hermione's eyes once more at the feeling of utter completeness. Finally she was _home_.

 

She stroked Severus' cheek as she leaned down to kiss him, and he took her mouth with a passion she could barely believe.

 

“Severus,” she moaned into his mouth and he groaned deeply in response.

 

And then she was moving, lifting herself up before dropping down again and again. Severus' hands were gripping her hips tightly, encouraging her, lifting her then pulling her down onto him. His hips met hers every time and soon they were moving in such a perfect rhythm that it brought tears back to Hermione's eyes and Severus' head was thrown back, moving side to side in pleasure.

 

“I love you, I love you” Hermione moaned out, and she was sobbing from the sheer ecstasy of feeling him inside her again. After being without him for so long, the pleasure rose within her quickly and she knew she would come soon. She clenched around him as he thrust harder and deeper.

 

“Hermione,” he moaned, and the adoration in his voice fuelled the orgasm which overcame her suddenly and powerfully. Her back arched and she cried out unintelligible words of love and need.

 

She convulsed around him again and again, sobbing with sheer pleasure and latent grief, and then Severus was coming, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut, groaning deeply.

 

She collapsed onto his chest and they lay there for a while, breathless. It had been quick, and desperate and _glorious_.

 

Eventually Hermione sat up and they righted their clothes.

 

She opened her mouth but words didn't come out. She wanted to ask if he still loved her, she _needed_ to know. He hadn't said the words since their reunion. And despite the evidence of his continued desire for her, the ache of the last months still held her in their grasp. She was consumed by self-doubt. She took one of his hands and clasped it tightly in hers.

 

“Do you, could you still...” Hermione's voice was hoarse, and she couldn't continue. She was too afraid.

 

Severus frowned. “Could I what, Hermione?” he asked. His fingers tangled with hers and it felt so _right_.

 

“Love me” she choked out, and she clenched her eyes tightly closed as her chest heaved in another sob and she started crying again. It was like she was making up for all those months when she had had to stay calm and fake icy composure when all she had wanted was to curl up and cry.

 

Severus took her into his arms again and held her tight, kissing away the tears from her face.

 

“Hermione,” he whispered between kisses. He stroked her hair out of her eyes. “I love you.”

 

Hermione opened her eyes and her lips trembled into a smile, although she couldn't quite stop crying. “You do? You forgive me?”

 

“I never stopped.” he replied, and Hermione felt a deep warmth blossoming in her chest, slowly healing the vacuum that had resided there for so long. “You broke my heart, but there is nothing to forgive. You did what you thought you must.”

 

Hermione buried her face into his neck, inhaling deeply and absorbing his scent. “I broke my own heart,” she mumbled into his warmth. “I regretted it every moment of every day.” She kissed his skin. “I hate Dumbledore.”

 

Severus pulled her from his neck and kissed her again, searching and probing as if he could find all the answers within her mouth.

 

Hermione responded with so much love and sweetness that Severus moaned and briefly deepened the kiss.

 

Before it could spiral out of control again, he pulled away.

 

“Perhaps Dumbledore was right,” he said. Hermione just gaped at him. “When I went to fight, I was expecting to die -”

 

“Severus,” Hermione interjected, her voice filled with pain, but Severus held up his hand to continue.

 

“I was expecting to die and I fought with no care for my own life. If I'd thought you loved me, I would have been more careful. And I would not have been able to stop myself from keeping a constant eye on you. It was hard enough as it was, not to try and protect you. And last night, towards the end, when I was fighting and curses kept flying past me instead of hitting me, I became more and more reckless, I _wanted_ to die. And at the end, when Potter was at the brink of failing, the sword somehow appeared at my feet and I knew what I had to do. I was convinced that I would die doing it.”

 

Hermione held him tight as he spoke. He spoke cautiously and with little emotion. Analytically.

 

He turned to her. “Hermione, if I had had any hope of being with you, any wish to survive, I don't know... perhaps it was for the best.”

 

He said the last bit quietly, carefully.

 

“But it hurt so much,” Hermione said, tightening her hold on him.

 

“That it did,” he replied. “More than anything. To have been so happy in one moment, and to have it all taken away the next... The consistent misery of my life before you was infinitely preferable.”

 

There was a pause, both lost in the remembrance of their agony.

 

“Hermione,” he said, his face solemn, fervent, and serious. “I love you, and I want you back. But it needs to be _forever_. I won't survive losing you a second time. I almost didn't the first time. So if there is any chance you will change your mind about me in the future, you need to tell me now, I can't-”

 

Hermione interrupted him fiercely. “Never!” She climbed into his lap and cupped his face between her hands. “Severus. I _love_ you. More than anything, anyone. These last months without you were _torture_. I will never willingly go through that again. I will never stop loving you, and-”

 

Severus kissed her before she could continue. He kissed her with everything he had, and the kiss rang with a promise which Hermione wholeheartedly returned.

 

When they broke apart, Severus smiled. And this time it wasn't just a curl of his lips, it was a full-bodied smile which crinkled the corners of his eyes and lifted his cheeks and caused a warm glow to flow through Hermione's chest.

 

“I like the sound of that,” he whispered and pulled her into his arms.

 

They sat like that for a long time, simply revelling in their togetherness. They looked out at the lake and the mountains and watched as the sun slowly rose higher in the sky.

 

The ruin of Hogwarts was behind them, and when they eventually stood up to leave they did not turn around to look at the rubble of their past.

 

They walked forward, arm in arm and still holding each other tightly.

 

They never let go.


End file.
